


Body For Rent

by leosorrel (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angel Liam, Demon Louis, Fantasy, Gen, Modern Day, Other, demon niall, more of a platonic thing, tinhats dont interract, university graduate harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/leosorrel
Summary: Harry is an university graduate living in London. He works as a janitor and barely gets by. It comes to a point where he's not even able to afford groceries and risks ending up homeless. Then he decides to break international law - rent his body as a demon vessel. The contracts are regulated by supernatural law, but you should never, ever trust a demon.





	1. Chapter 1

The soft sounds of an electric guitar and synth filled Harry's ears as he stood in the hallway, leaning against his mop. A soft smile appeared on his face as the song kept going and his eyes closed as he appreciated the music. Aerial post-rock was his favorite type of music and he could meditate to it all day.

He lost his balance as the mop slid from under his grip. He let out a yelp, stumbling forward and hitting his head against the hallway wall. His headphones fell out of his ears, the wires dangling between his legs. A wave of embarrassment rushed over him, painting his cheeks red and setting his chest on fire. But there was no one in the hallway, just him and the mop. That was what he got for zoning out on the job.

Harry worked as a janitor in an office building. His co-worker was sick, so for the last week he'd been cleaning the 5th floor on his own, staying long after everyone else had left. He just mopped and cleaned and vacuumed all day long until it got dark outside and the guard told him to get out.

The job paid very little, and even with the overtime he worked, he could barely make ends meet. His degree in photography was useless when he couldn't even afford a camera. He wondered if it would have been better for him to have listened to his parents and picked a different major, like politics or such.

He looked out the window. The River Thames was painted scarlet by the sunset. It was time for him to pack up and go home, to his flat in Bexley. He finished mopping the hallway, put away the mop in the janitor's closet and headed out to catch the night bus.

Harry walked to the bus stop, hands stuck deep in the pockets of his skinny jeans, tracksuit jacket zipped up to his chin. He was freezing in the chilly November air, but he couldn't afford to buy a winter coat, not right now. As he approached the bus station, a peculiar feeling made him stop in his tracks and look around. He felt as if someone was watching him. Looking around the street he saw nothing, not a critter. Shrugging, he kept walking on.

He reached the bus stop quite quickly. He had hoped that there wouldn't be anyone at the stop, giving him more chances at getting a seat on the bus and not having to stand for half an hour, but there was a crowd at the stop. Yet, there was something peculiar about these people. Harry couldn't see them properly in the darkness - a few weeks ago a car had driven into the nearest streetlamp and nobody had fixed it.

The people were misshapen. It looked like they were wearing bunny ears on their heads, something was sticking up from their heads. Around their waists was some kind of long cloth, that flicked around with complete disregard for the wind's direction.

Harry took a few cautious stops forward, deciding to stand near where the end of the bus should stop and not engage with these people. He put one headphone in and resumed playing his music, but his hand froze midair when the people started to speak.

"We've got you," said one. The voice was goatlike, making a bleating sound. Harry’s shoulders tensed. That can only be a satyr. 

“We’re going to have so much fun with you!” another one spoke, letting out a cackle afterwards. Harry leaned back, trying to see who they were talking to, but it was too dark, he could barely even distinguish between individual figures. He put his headphone back in and moved a bit further, trying to not catch their attention. Satyr were vile creatures for the most part. Hedonistic, once known for their orgies and all-you-can-eat buffets, now they wandered around in the night, finding victims in the form of homeless humans and taking them away to do unspeakable things.

Two centuries ago nobody thought much about all these mythological creatures. Then, one day they showed up out of nowhere. Of course, in the beginning, people were unhappy about these new inhabitants. Violence ensued, but if you think about it, what was a human against the likes of a minotaur or an angel? The wars across the world were quickly suppressed. Ambassadors from both sides came together at the negotiating table. They said they came in peace, wishing to share the world they had walked millennia ago with humans. To live like equals, and to teach them of magic and science.

While most humans agreed to live alongside these new neighbours, it was deemed unacceptable by the religious kind. It went against everything they stood for. At first, the arrival of angels was revered, especially in the christian circles, but when their tales deemed the Bible teachings as wrong, unrest grew. Yet, time passed and with more and more people being educated in the true history of the world, monotheist religions became obsolete. All would be well, but not everyone came with good intentions. There were evil creatures lurking in society, like satyr. Some went to the more uncivilized corners of the earth to make people their slaves and worship them. It wasn’t a widespread phenomena, but they earned their place in the history books.

The pained cries of the man surrounded by the satyr brought Harry back to reality. There was no way all creatures came in peace, like they had claimed. It had become very clear in the very beginning, with the more dangerous ones using the night to prey on humans much weaker than them. Becoming homeless was a death sentence for humans. If they couldn’t find a safe place, like a homeless shelter, to spend the night… If not satyr, then vampires or werewolves would get to them. It wasn’t uncommon to find body parts lying on the street after a night of a full moon. The world was full of dangers. Yet, these weren’t the worst creatures. No, that title was left to demons.

Luckily enough for humans, demons couldn’t materialize in the real world without a vessel. They could only manifest as reflections, similar to Bloody Mary. Demons were constantly looking for people that would rent out their bodies to allow them to walk the Earth. But the human practice of lending their body to a demonic spirit was outlawed internationally. But, when riches beyond comprehension were on the line, people were willing to break the law, as it always had been. He remembered the incident that had lead to outlawing the process.

In 1974, someone in India had rented out their body to a rather powerful demon, who, in turn, persuaded others around to rent their bodies. In a matter of a year it turned into an epidemic of possessions, which ended in a huge civil war, killing half of the population of the country. Half. Because the only way a human could banish a demon was to destroy its vessel, which meant death for the person. After that, high councils of angels and other high level creatures forced demons to create contracts for renting, not allowing it to last more than a week. 

Harry was torn from his thoughts by the bus arriving. He hurried inside, leaving the satyr and the homeless man to their own devices. There was no way he could help, he would just become a victim. You were on your own in this world.

The trip to home took a boring half an hour. He promptly got out at is stop, hurried to his apartment building, not wishing to stay out in the night and ran upstairs, to the third floor.

His apartment was barely furnished. He was happy he at least had some kitchen appliances, because his bed was just a mattress on the floor with blankets piled on it. He had moved away from his parents to live an independent life, ambitious, but it quickly turned out that living alone was very tough. He got by somehow. Until lately.

A letter was laying on the kitchen table. He had thrown it there in the morning when hurrying to work. Now he finally had the time to open it. It was a rent notice. Rental apartment prices had been rising lately, and Harry realised he wouldn’t be able to afford it. Bexley was the cheapest suburb of London, and if he wasn’t able to afford that, he had only two choices - go against his pride and go back home to Whitechapel to work long days in a bakery and achieve nothing, or be kicked out on the street.

He sighed, putting the letter down on the table and walking over to the fridge. It greeted him with empty hands, so to say. A milk carton, some leftover pasta and spoiled cottage cheese were its only contents. He would have to spend his last money on groceries, and he wouldn’t get paid for another two weeks. He was in deep trouble, but right now he was too tired to think about it. He ate the leftovers, not even bothering to heat them up and fell down on the mattress in the corner, falling into a nightmare filled slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up with a headache and halfway rolled off of his mattress onto the laminated floor. His phone lock screen showed that the time was 7 a.m. He had a free day so he might as well have slept in, but his growling stomach was reminding of the empty fridge. Harry got up and did his morning routine, got dressed and headed out for groceries.

He checked the account balance on his phone’s banking app, fumbling around with his fingers and trying to make the broken screen respond. There was just enough money for him to buy the bare necessities, but that was it. He sighed, put the phone back in his pocket and began to walk down the street.

Groceries in hand, he walked out of a food shop. It had started snowing while he was inside the building and the ground was slippery and icy. He was wearing sneakers with flat bottoms, which made the whole thing even more uncomfortable. All Harry wanted right now was to be in a properly furnished house, sitting on a couch, drinking coffee with a TV turned on in the background. But instead, he was here, standing on the corner of the street, with his old and patchy clothing as the falling snow hit him in the face.

He put down the grocery bag and looked through his battered wallet. He sighed in frustration when he understood that he was a few cents short of a bus ticket.  _ Guess I’ll have to walk,  _ he grudged in his thoughts. The walk home would be about a mile in a half, whilst he had to tote his groceries.

After about ten minutes of walking, he stopped by a newsstand to rest. While standing around, he read the headlines embellishing the newspaper stand. There were human newspapers, papers for supernatural beings both in English and in languages Harry couldn’t understand, and there were papers full of classified ads. He gave his last money for a classified ad paper for supernatural services in hopes to find some job that required a human. Selling your body to mythological creatures for their sciences seemed like a sane idea when you had less than a pound in your wallet.

He folded the thin paper and stuffed it into his grocery bag, resuming his walk home through the wet snow. Falling on his ass twice on the way, he got home with mustard jars in his jacket pockets. The paper bag he had used to carry had soaked through the last time he fell, and he felt like the most unlucky man on Earth. Finally he dumped everything on the kitchen table, wiping the melted snow from his jacket and sighing. 

He quickly made half a dozen pancakes and sat down to eat them. He was greedily stuffing his mouth with them while scanning over the ad paper he had bought. There were a lot of advertisements for selling or buying artifacts, a few missing creatures, an ad from a demon that was looking for a vessel, offers to teach angel language, and…

_ Wait.  _ The pancake stopped in midair, teasing Harry’s nose with its smell as he frantically scanned over the paper, looking for a specific ad.  _ Aha! There it is! _

The advert was a rather small square, squeezed in at the very bottom of the page. It read: “Demon looking for human vessel. Pays above average. Contact Louis - Asmodeous’s subordinate invocation.” There was a strange symbol next to it, the meaning of which was a mystery to Harry, but he was certain that it was key to contacting the demon. He knew that the average pay for a week in these cases was a good 1000 EUR. So above avearge sounded very, very enticing. He had to get his hands on a summoning book, and quick. But first he had to quit his job, because a demon would definitely not be okay with mopping the floors for 8 hours.

He quickly ate the remaining pancakes, grabbed his jacket and backpack, and hurried out of his house. He needed to get to the closest academic library as soon as possible and find summoning books and a demon encyclopedia. Of course, nobody would just outright give them to him, so he knew he was going to have to steal them. Return them later, of course. It would be much easier if his phone screen wasn’t cracked and his camera would work, but he’ll have to do it the old fashion way. 

Harry entered the local library. The librarian was an old woman, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but work. Harry put on a gentleman’s smile and made up some lie of needing to do research for an university project about different ethereal planes, kindly asking to be let into the restricted section to write down some information. The old lady fell for his superficial charm, letting him in without even registering him, because she sighed that it would be too much paperwork to deal with.

As soon as he was left alone, Harry frantically looked through the bookcases in search for anything related to demons. In the very depth of the room was a bookcase of modern copies of old medieval manuscripts. Harry vaguely remembered the titles of demon grimoires. There was one about Solomon, and another one that had a Latin name, which was on the tip of his tongue. He slid his finger over the book spines, looking for any mention of demons, until he found a medium sized hardcover book called “ _ Pseudomonarchia daemonum _ ”.

“Bingo.” He muttered to himself, opening the table of contents and looking for the name of the demon -  Asmodeus. It was listed as the 32nd entry. He quickly flipped through the book until he reached the article. Underneath the title of the chapter was a description, roughly modernised. Harry was thankful he didn’t have to read 16th century english.

“ _ Sydonay, alias Asmoday, a great king, strong and mighty, is seen with three heads,w here the first is like a bull, the second like a man and the third like a ram. He has a serpent’s tail and he breathes flames from his mouth. He was feet like a goose and he sits on an infernal dragon, carrying a lance and a flag. He goes before other which are under the power of Amaymon. _

_ When the conjurer exercises this ritual, let him be aware and standing on his feet, his head in its place and his hat off. If it is not so, he shall be deceived by Amayom in everything. But if he [the conjurer] sees the demon in this form, he must say - You are Asmoday, and he [Asmoday] will not deny. Then he [conjurer] shall bow to the ground and Asmoday shall teach of geometry, arithmetic, astronomy and handicrafts. To all demands he will answer fully and truthfully, he can make a man invisible, show the places where hidden treasure lies and guards it. _ ”

There was nothing about how to summon him or his subordinates though, only a warning not to do it. Harry grunted in frustration, putting the book back in its place and continuing his search. Finally, he stumbled upon “ _ The Lesser Key Of Solomon” _ . From history lessons he recalled it to be one of the most detailed grimoires on demons there was. After a period of searching, he found the incantation he needed to summon the demon. He quickly shoved the book in his backpack, placing in its spot on the bookshelf a decoy book to conceal that it was missing. He left the library, thanking the librarian on his way out. The moment he exited, he began running home to study the book. Hopefully the ritual didn’t need more than what he had available at home.

Not for a moment did he stop to think about his actions. The allure of money and financial security made him throw away any precautions.


	3. Chapter 3

He ran into his apartment, locking the door and closing all the blinds tightly shut, engulfing his living space into a comfortable dusk. Harry placed the backpack on the ground and took out the heavy book, throwing it down on the mattress. He went to grab a glass of water before sitting down to read it.

It was a recently published version, crisp pages and modern font, with many sigils and strange drawings incorporated. He didn’t pay much attention to them, no, all he cared for was the summoning rituals. Finding the right chapter, he read quietly to himself:

“You will need:  
  
            1.A quiet place where you will not be disturbed.  
            2.Quality incense with a pleasing fragrance.   
            3.One or more black, blue, or red candles. Black is choice, but red and blue are ok for a substitute if you cannot obtain black.  
            4.Your paper containing the Demon’s sigil.  
            5. A reflective surface, mirror or a bowl of water.”

Quiet place? He turned off the sound of his phone. Check. Quality incense? Harry didn’t know about quality, but he did have some pine incense lying around. Colored candles? He still had some red ones left over from last Christmas. As for the sigil… He got up and walked to the kitchen, finding a pair of scissors in the drawers and cutting out the ad from the paper. Lastly, he filled a bowl with water, providing himself with a reflective surface.

He followed the book's instructions, lighting the incense first, lighting three red candles and placing them in a triangle around the little paper clipping and water bowl. Then he reached out for the book and opened the chapter on summoning.

His face scrunched at the sight of the text he had to read out. It sounded like absolute nonsense. For a moment he doubted if this could really summon a demon - demons weren’t the dramatic type, were they? For sure there was a less flashy way to summon them. He coughed, and began reading out loud.

“I do invocate and conjure thee, O Asmoday’s subordinate and being with power armed from the Supreme Majesty, I do strongly command thee, by BEROLINENSIS, BALDACHIENSIS, PAUMACHIA, and APOLOGIAE SEDES;”he read in a monotone tone, internally cringing at how stupid he sounded yet keeping on.

“By the most Powerful Princes, Genii, Liachidæ, and Ministers of the Tartarean Abode; and by the Chief Prince of the Seat of Apologia in the Ninth Legion, I do invoke thee, and by invocating conjure thee. O thou Asmoday’s subordinate, that thou dost forthwith appear unto me here before this Circle in a fair human shape, without any deformity or tortuosity.”

He finished the incantation and stared right at the water bowl. At first, nothing happened. The water was still, only disturbed by Harry’s movements. Then, it stilled completely. Harry tried to move the bowl, but the water didn’t move, as if frozen. Slowly, a face appeared in the bowl, making Harry jump back.

            “Next time, just call me Louis. And be less formal.” the head said in a sandpapery, yet surprisingly high voice. Harry’s jaw fell open, as he scrambled to his feet, eyes wide.

“What the fuck- You-” he stuttered, pointing at the bowl. The demon looked at him, unimpressed.

“You called me, with my sigil. I came. Why are you surprised?” The demon inquired, raising its brows.

“I mean, I didn’t think it would work, I,” Harry kept stuttering, feeling insignificant under the demon’s stare.

“Were you just fooling around then? Going to waste my time?” a hostile tone crept into Louis’s voice, making Harry’s legs tremble in fear.

“No, no,” Harry quickly recovered. “I’m here about the ad. The possession request? That.”

“Ah!” the demon’s eyes literally sparked up, little flames appearing in them. “Come closer, so I can join our minds together. “

“Wait, hold up, isn’t there a contract?” Harry asked, moving a bit further away, as if it would help keep the demon, Louis, away from him.

“Yes, yes, that. Thank you for reminding me.” Louis grumbled. “I guess I have to read you out the rules. I’ll give you the brief version.”

“I, Louis of Asmoday, the King of Revenge, will take possession of your body for 5 days a week. For these 5 days you will receive 2000 euros. Do not question their origin. The less you know, the better you sleep.”

2000? Harry felt like he had won a lottery. A couple of months and he could live happily for a year at least. There was just one problem – supernatural law didn’t allow for more than a week.

“You know, we could seal the deal every Monday morning. It won’t even be a full week each time. If we get in trouble with the High Court, then they can’t really do much to us. At least, not to me. I’m not greatly concerned about what the humans will do to you.”

Harry’s eyes widened again. Louis could read his thoughts? As soon as this thought appeared in Harry’s mind, Louis smirked and nodded, looking at him.

“Eh, couple of weeks shouldn’t be too bad. What’s the worst you could do?” Harry asked. Louis just snickered.

A piece of parchment appeared next to the water bowl, and Harry walked over to it, taking it in his hands and skimming over. It was a more detailed contract, but Harry didn’t care much for the details.

“How do I sign this?”

“Blood, of course. Just cut your finger, give a few drops on the paper, a few in this here container, and as soon as it turns Monday, you’ll be mine.”

Harry looked at his phone. It was Saturday now. He had enough time to arrange to not be disturbed for a couple of weeks. He nodded to the reflection of the demon and hurried to the kitchen for a knife. Returning, he kneeled down next to the water bowl. For a moment he hesitated, but then he cut the tip of his right index finger, dropping the knife to the side and squeezing out a few drops onto the parchment. As soon as his blood made contact with the paper, it went up in flames and disappeared. Harry gave a few drops to the image of Louis, who just looked at him with a mischievous flame in his eyes.

“See you on Monday!” Louis said, his image disappearing. A strange breeze ran blew over the summoning altar, extinguishing the candles and knocking over the incense. All of a sudden Harry felt weak. He crawled onto the mattress and fell asleep almost immediately, dreaming of a strange place built of flames and black rock.


End file.
